


Sleep

by combeferrocious



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Fluffy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 17:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1718486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combeferrocious/pseuds/combeferrocious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre has a little trouble getting Enjolras to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

Combeferre watched the others work from his spot in the backroom of the Musain. Many of them were not working, but rather drinking much to Grantaire's insisting behind their chief's back. Feuilly was working as always, stitching tricolors for the group to use in the upcoming rally. Joly assisted Jehan in designing cover of the pamphlet that Enjolras recently finished. This pamphlet was one the leader had stressed over for weeks until he finally managed to perfect it.

Those were the only people, besides Combeferre and Enjolras, who took the initiative to focus on the cause. The medical student returned his attention to his partner. The blond revolutionary was wearily dipping the pen back into the ink well to continue writing. Combeferre placed a warm hand on his beloved's shoulder.

"Mon cher, perhaps it is wise to take a small break." He suggested.

Enjolras looked up from the paper. "Why would you say so?" He questioned. 

"Well," Combeferre began, "Half of them are drunk, Feuilly is returning home, and you are tired."

"I am not tired."

Combeferre stopped his hand when he reached to continue writing. The older student removed to pen and set it back on the table. 

"As a medical student, I advise that you get some rest." He said. "You are tired; do not deny it Enjolras."

The blond had dark circles under his eyes that destroyed his word. It really had been a stressful day, but he refused to quit working—even at lunch time. Enjolras watched him for a second before letting his eyes wander around the room. A few of their friends were drunk—mainly Grantaire and Bahorel. Joly began walking with Bossuet down the staircase to leave the cafe.

"I suppose we can return to the flat...I will continue my work when we arrive-"

"No, Enjolras," Combeferre interrupted, "Are you even listening to me? You need rest. When was the last time you slept?"

The blond looked to his hands. "Maybe the day prior to yesterday." He replied.

Combeferre stood and grabbed his cane and hat. "We're going home now." He said. "Come on."

Enjolras stood and reached for his own cane. "I do not think this is necessary." He mumbled. 

The bespectacled student could not find words for him. Instead he stared at him. 

"What?" Enjolras said. 

"Nothing, let us go." Combeferre replied. 

The blond linked his arm with his partner as they sauntered under the star-littered skies of Paris. The two walked in silence during the brief journey home. When they arrived, Combeferre put a pot of water over the fire. He then poured the steaming water into two cups before setting tea bags in them. 

Enjolras sat at the desk, against his partner's instruction, and began writing his next speech. Combeferre saw him and sighed heavily. He set a cup of tea on the desk. 

"Please do not overwork yourself, mon cher." He pleaded. 

"'Ferre, 'm not." Enjolras mumbled sleepily. 

Combeferre carded his finger's through his partner's soft blond hair. "Enjolras, I love you; I would never do anything to harm you or the cause, but sleep is vital. If you have sleep, then you will be able to create a better speech than when you are weary." He said. "I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you while you were in my care."

Enjolras stood and pressed his forehead to Combeferre's. "If it pleases you so much that I get sleep, then I suppose I will rest for a few hours...under one condition." He said. 

Combeferre smiled slightly and raised an eyebrow, a trait that Enjolras had not obtained. 

"Sleep with me tonight." The blond whispered timidly. 

"I shall; let us sleep." Combeferre said before leading the blond to his bedroom. 

Enjolras removed his clothing before pulling his night shirt over his head. The medical student removed his tail coat, unbuttoned his waistcoat, and loosened his cravat.

"Combeferre?" The fair haired man whispered. 

The other stood in front of the blond before lifting his chin up with his hand. 

"Do not fret, my love. I shall not permit you to oversleep." He said. 

Enjolras stood, so they were face to face. He removed his partner's glasses before closing the space between their bodies and kissing him. His fingers ran through the other's short brown hair before Combeferre pulled away. 

"Sleep. Now." He whispered. 

Enjolras smiled and crawled into the bed, snuggling up to Combeferre before closing his eyes. 

"Combeferre, thank you?" He whispered.

"Why are you thanking me?" The other replied. 

"For taking care of me when I need it." 

Combeferre smiled and grasped one of his hands in his before closing his own eyes. "Good night, Enjolras."

"Good night, cher." The other murmured contentedly as he drifted into sleep.


End file.
